


Alternate Ending to RDR2 (Beautiful Boy)

by Anonymous



Category: rdr2 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Cowboys, Dutch Van der linde - Freeform, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hosea Mathews - Freeform, John Marston - Freeform, Major Character Injury, Micah Bell - Freeform, arthur morgan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: I didn’t like the thought of Arthur dying alone so I wrote an alternate ending :))
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Alternate Ending to RDR2 (Beautiful Boy)

**Author's Note:**

> this is an alternate ending to the game, but i might use this in a fic later on hence the Beatles lyrics at the end :))

It happened like a wildfire, at one moment Hosea and Arthur were standing opposite Dutch and Micah, the next, it was raining bullets. They retreated behind a fallen piece of wood, the bullets connecting, sending splinters flying.   
Micah ran as Dutch was shot.  
Hosea yelled out for him, yet Dutch’s head hung low and unresponsive, his chest bloody.   
‘Come on my friend!’ Hosea yelled. ‘Get up!’ Dutch’s body rested against the cave entrance, his once white shirt now stained red.   
Hosea, Arthur and John hid, pinned down by the swarm of bullets that surrounded them. The only exit was through the cave.   
‘Arthur! Take John-‘   
A bullet pierced through Hosea’s side, the connection making him fall onto his stomach at Dutch’s feet.  
‘Hosea!’ Arhtur wheezed. ‘Get up! We have to go!’  
Hosea grabbed Arthur’s arm and sat up, ‘Go! I’ll be right behind you!’   
‘Hosea-‘  
‘Go! Now!’ Arthur nodded, pushing John through the cave, leaving Hosea and Dutch.   
‘I’m sorry,’ Dutch whispered as Hosea knelt in front of him, holding his side; his vision wavering as he tried to focus on Dutch. ‘I’m sorry…’  
‘It’s ok my friend, it’s ok,’ Hosea grunted. He put his head to Dutch’s, grabbing the back of the nape of his neck. For a moment, they couldn’t hear the bullets or the shouts of the agents, it was only them. ‘I know you did the best you could,’ he whispered. ‘You can rest now.’ 

Arthur and John pushed through the cave, the increasing panic and flying of bullets sent their hearts pounding and ears rining. Briseis, Arthur’s spotted white horse, was nervously waiting alongside Old Boy. He didn’t get the chance to calm her, only threw himself onto her saddle and rode with John away from the agents. ‘Come on Arthur! Push!’  
The continuous sounds of the bullets flying past them rang in Arthur’s ears as he tried to keep up, his chest was congested and his mind fogged. ‘Over here, this way!’ John pulled into a clearing out of the forest when they were met with a group of agents, firing aimlessly at the pair. The bullets connected with Briseis who collapsed in a whine, throwing Arthur on to the ground. His heart hammered as he raised his gun, ‘Oh no…’   
He shot in a fury at the men before rushing back to his horse. She was neighing and whining softly, her legs moving as if reaching for Arthur. ‘Oh no… Hey,’ he whispered, sitting beside her and placing a gentle hand on her mane. He leaned in, ‘Ssh, ssh. It’s okay.’   
‘Come on Arthur!’ John said desperately, clutching his bleeding arm.’ We have to go!’   
‘Gimme a minute!’ Arthur begged with a cough. ‘Gimme a minute.’. He leant down to Briseis ear where he shushed her softly, ‘It’s okay.’  
She let out a soft whine. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered before getting to his feet and retreating with John to the hillsides. 

‘They’re everywhere!’ John yelled, hiding behind a boulder, firing into the hills. The fog hid the agents that were charging for them. ‘I can’t see!’   
Arthur looked behind them, seeing a path through a cliff. He grabbed John and guided him. ‘This way, come on.’  
As they reached cover, Arthur stopped breathlessly waving at John.   
‘John,’ he wheezed.  
‘Come on, we don’t have time for this!’ John said desperately.   
‘You go.’  
‘Arthur! Keep pushing!’  
‘No… No,’ Arthur sighed. ‘I think I’ve pushed all I can,’ he coughed, wiping the blood that escaped his lips.  
‘Please, Arthur,’ John pleaded, stepping towards him in one final attempt for them to escape.   
‘No. We ain’t both gonna make it out of this.’   
Arthur took off his hat, placing it on John’s head. He removed his satchel, feeling a loss when he placed it into John’s arms. His journal, his life is what he carried in that satchel. Arthur put his hand on John’s shoulder, his eyes filled with certainty. ‘You go.’   
‘Arthur…’  
Arthur pulled out his gun and stepped back, ‘Go. Be with your family.’  
‘Arthur!’  
Arthur turned towards John who was slowly following him up the hillside. ‘Go on! Get out of here and be a goddamn man.’   
John nodded, he took a deep breath. ‘You’re my brother.’   
Arthur smiled, ‘I know… I know.’ 

Bullets shot past Arthur as he stepped back up the hillside. He had to distract the agents before they caught up with John, ‘Come and get me you rotten bastards!’ He yelled, firing back. They hadn’t made it up the hillside before Arthur fell onto his back, feeling someone tackle him as Micah straddling him with a gun pointed to his face. A sudden rush of anger filled Arthur as he spat, ‘You rat… you rat!’   
Micah smiled, he smacked Arthur with the butt of the gun, ‘You don’t understand, Black Lung. I’m a survivor!’  
He plowed the gun into Arthur’s head before Arthur bucked Micah off him, sending them both tumbling off the small cliff side.   
They lied there for a moment, wheezing and groaning in pain. The gun fell beside Arthur but before he reached for it Micah picked him up and sent him into the cliff edge. Blood dripped down his face as his face connected with the stone. Arthur turned, his fists drawn, his eyesight blurred and wavering.   
‘You’re done, Black Lung,’ Micah chuckled. ‘You’re done.’  
Arthur’s fist con hammered Micah’s face asMicah fell to the ground. The pure adrenaline that was driving him was enough to make Arthur’s fury ride through his punches and kicks. 

Micah drew his knife and sent it into Arthur’s side. He fell back, gasping in pain and drawing it out of his waist. ‘Argh!’ He yelped. Micah toppled him, one hand wrapped around Arthur’s throat and the other raised.   
‘You’re dead Morgan!’ Micah gurgled. ‘You’re already dead!’ He lay his fist in Arthur’s face as blood splattered across the floor. Arthur scoffed, blood dripping from his mouth. 

Micah's face curled into a grim smile, ‘You’ve lost, my sick friend. You’ve lost!’ He said, before Arthur hurled the knife at Micah’shead, connecting with his eye. Micah stumbled back, his hand clasped over his eye as blood dripped through his fingers.   
‘In the end, Micah,’ Arthur wheezed as he lay on his back, the blood thickening his voice, his face pulped and bloody. ‘Despite my best efforts to the contrary… It turns out I’ve won.’ A small smile hid on Arthur’s face as he began to sit up, before receiving a kick to the chest by Micah. ‘Oh Black Lung, you can be quiet now! I’ve wanted to do this for a looong time,’ he spat.   
Micah stood over Arthur, reaching into his holster.  
Click.   
The sound of the safety being pulled back, and the feeling of a cold edge of a revolver was placed onto the back of Micah’s head.   
‘Put… that… down, Mr Bell.’   
Hosea was stood behind Micah, holding a gun to his head, clutching his side tightly as blood dripped through his fingers.   
‘Ohohoh,’ Micah chuckled. ‘Mr Mathews. Where’s old Dutch?’   
Hosea paused as Micah put his guns into his holsters and began to turn around, his hands raised, feigning submission.   
‘Stay there!’ Hosea grunted. ‘Dutch… Dutch is dead.’ He wouldn’t let the pain show in his voice, yet Arthur groaned as he twisted onto his back. His face was beaten, bloody, his breath short and gasping. ‘No, Dutch,’ he wheezed.   
‘Ah,’ Micah said, the smile still spread across his face. ‘It was inevitable, wasn’t it?’   
Hosea didn’t have anything to say to Micah, the burning hatred spread from his head down to his feet as his glare remained on the slimy man. Hosea stepped towards Micah, the gun held firmly to his head despite the pain that brought with his wound. ‘Hosea,’ Arthur wheezed.   
‘Ssh, Arthur. It’s okay now,’ he said, pulling the trigger and sending Micah’s body tumbling down the cliff-side.

Hosea stumbled to the ground, his side soaked with blood. He fought against the lightness that brought and crawled to Arthur.   
‘It’s okay, son. You did so well,’ he whispered. He held Arthur in his arms as they sat against the cliff-edge. The sun was rising, casting a soft golden glow onto their faces. ‘Hosea,’ Arthur gasped.   
‘Hush now, it’s ok, Arthur.’   
Hosea felt tears slip down his cheeks as he hugged his son. ‘It’s time to rest now, Arthur… Close your eyes…’   
The sun wasn’t burning his eyes, the breeze wasn’t harsh, it rocked the trees they overlooked into a soft dance, the ground was soft.  
‘Have no fear…’  
Arthur gasped, Hosea stroked his hair softly. Stay awake, he told himself. For him.   
‘The monster’s gone… Your daddy’s here,’ he whispered. Arthur took one long breath, staring at the sunrise, clutching Hosea’s arm before his grasp softened and he let go. His limp body rested in Hosea’s arms.   
Hosea let out a sob,‘Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.’ The world Hosea sat in grew lighter, he stared at the ever-glowing sun. It grew brighter and brighter before he was consumed in a white ethereal realm.


End file.
